


Bluesfan

by MeansToOffend (goodmorning)



Series: 31 in 31: NHL Fairy Tales [17]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: F/M, Fairy Tale Retellings, Minnesota Wild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-22
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2019-01-03 21:46:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12155430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodmorning/pseuds/MeansToOffend
Summary: "There was once a lady of not unpleasant aspect, whose personal wealth was great. But this lady had one piece of misfortune: she was a Blues fan."





	Bluesfan

There was once a lady of not unpleasant aspect, whose personal wealth was great. But this lady had one piece of misfortune: she was a Blues fan. This was actually a doubly unfortunate thing for her, for not only were most of her holdings in the land of Minnesota, but also the Blues had begun to go missing, one at a time, and there were scarcely any of them remaining.

Due to her wealth, this lady ran in certain circles. Thus it was that she met the Minnesota Wild. She began to pursue them, for she desired one of their hands in marriage, but none of them wanted her, for they could not bear the thought of marrying a woman who was a Blues fan.

It began, after a while, to become obvious that she would not take no for an answer. In fear of what she might do, therefore, their captain felt it was necessary to take one for the team.

Almost as soon as the marriage had occurred, the Blues fan told Mikko that she was to be away on business for a week. “Here,” said she, “are the keys to everything. The wine cellar, the wardrobes, the toolshed, the spare bedrooms…”

“And the small gold one?”

“That unlocks the basement. I forbid you to open it.”

This puzzled Mikko, but he did not argue, and the Blues fan departed.

Almost at once, the rest of the team came over, for they were curious indeed, but had not dared to come while the lady of the house was in residence. They were very interested in the richness of the decor and the size of the televisions, and several of them would not stop talking about the way certain of their video games would look on such large screens.

Watching them satisfy their curiosity was too much for Mikko to bear, however. He snuck down the back stairs at such a breakneck pace he nearly - well, broke his neck. At last, he stood in front of the basement door, so thick and imposing he wondered how it was that the small gold key would fit it. Perhaps it was a test?

But he tried the key in the lock, and it fitted. As he removed it and swung the door open, a wave of cold air washed over him.

Mikko beheld, in front of him, a rink, with several men sitting on the benches and one lone skater whizzing around the rink, stick in hand. He stood there, gaping, until the skater noticed him, stopping right in front of him and showering him with snow.

It was Tarasenko, who’d gone missing first of all, and the realisation of this had Mikko flinging himself out the door. He slammed it and locked it behind him, wondering what on earth he was supposed to do about it.

Dusting the ice and water droplets off himself, he returned to his team. The key, however, could not be wiped off; no matter how hard he tried, ice still clung to it, for it was a magic key.

Still, by the time the team left, Mikko was greatly relieved, for they had come up with a plan for the lady’s return the following day.

Morning dawned, and the Wild began concealing themselves about the house in preparation. Mikko had just finished shutting the last wardrobe door on Parise and Suter when the Blues fan returned.

Her first request, upon seeing Mikko, was that he return her keys. When he did so, she frowned. “And where is the key to my basement?”

“Not sure,” Mikko said. “I took it off the keyring since I wasn’t going to use it.”

“Go find it,” she said, and he took himself upstairs to feign doing so. When he finally returned with the key (having alerted his team that the time was coming), she took one look at it and asked, “And why is there ice on this key?”

“No idea,” Mikko lied. “Didn’t it always look like that?”

“You’ve been in my basement!” she cried, advancing on him. But just then, the Wild burst from their hiding places, subduing the Blues fan until the authorities arrived.

Mikko found himself with very sufficient grounds for divorce then, and ended up with possession of the house, which he turned into a hockey rink for disadvantaged youth. And so he lived happily, and forgot the dreadful time he had passed with the Blues fan.

**Author's Note:**

> \- Bluebeard is a weird little story.   
> \- The Minnesota Wild are one of the teams I'm least familiar with, because Minnesota PR never seems to do anything that catches attention.


End file.
